


Together, At Dawn

by RoseGoldAmpersand



Series: At Dawn, By Dusk [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bottom Tony Stark, Elements of:, Friendship/Love, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Steve Rogers, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Power Bottom Tony Stark, Time Travel, Top Steve Rogers, service top steve rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 09:29:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18870451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseGoldAmpersand/pseuds/RoseGoldAmpersand
Summary: Steve returns the Infinity Stones to New York and finds himself in conversation with Tony of the past. More mature and willing to listen to Tony he realises that what he previously thought were taunts was actually Tony flirting with him.In light of this new discovery and alone in Tony’s workshop after the battle of New York, one thing leads to another...





	Together, At Dawn

The two Stones had fortunately been returned to their natural positions without hitch in 2012 New York. He had two Stones left to deliver in 2014, but something made Steve pause. The mission was not complete and there was no reason for him to stick around, yet (as the dust of battle settled, shawarma was consumed, and Loki was sent away in chains) he found himself hesitating.

His Tony was recovering when he left him to return the Stones, bedridden and entertaining the shaken but no less enthusiastic Spider-Man. Together they were designing a new arm for himself (based on his past designs for Bucky, of course), and pitching increasingly ridiculous ideas for Ben and Jerry’s Spidey ice-cream.

Tony was sick, very sick, but he would recover. The foreign alien medicine Captain Marvel gave him helped his strength and his living nightmare was finally over. He could rest. He could live life for the sake of living again.

Steve had left them to it with an awkward goodbye, feeling very much out of place. After Ultron, the Accords, Siberia... Their fledgeling friendship had been beaten bloody. Thanos had brought them together as a team again, but it could never be the same. They had their trust back - shaky and tender, easy to bruise, painful to hold - but Steve had lost the privilege of the other man's companionship. He couldn't blame Tony either; Steve knew fully that he did not deserve his friendship. They were back to teammates and he could live with that. Just knowing that Tony was alive, recovering, and didn't look at him with eyes full of rage - or worse,  _fear_  - was enough for Steve. At least, that was what he told himself.

Even though Tony had given him back the shield and they had called their truce, Steve knew it wasn't his place to wait by Tony's bedside as he recovered, no matter how much he wanted to. He had wanted -  _needed_ \- to sit by in comfort, to pass him water and hold his hand, but that wasn't what friends did. And it wasn't what 'just teammates' did, either. Instead, Steve had paced anxiously and demanded updates from F.R.I.D.A.Y and Carol whenever the twist in his gut became unbearable - right up until Tony had been declared conscious and stable.

And, like a coward, he had jumped into the past to hide from his heartache at the soonest opportunity.

He hadn’t anticipated the bittersweet joy that came to choke him during his first trip back in time. He had watched as he and Tony of the past ignored each other, both too concerned with the day's events to banter together as Clint and Nat had. While his past self was tired and ran checks with S.H.I.E.L.D - keeping busy - Tony looked exhausted. He hid it well, but Steve had lived this day three times and each time it was more obvious that Tony needed the comfort of his team and wouldn't ask for it.

Lingering in his past and missed opportunities, Steve was overcome with the urge to check in on his teammate. As team captain, it was the right thing to do. Nobody would know he had taken a detour. Nobody would suspect he lingered because he ached to see Tony look at him again with eyes bright with friendship. If he couldn't help his Tony, he was making damn sure this Tony knew that Steve Rogers would always be there for him.

It was late evening by the time he built up the nerve and peeked into Tony's private workshop. He had been surprised that J.A.R.V.I.S let him past the security defences of the Tower, but either Tony was a lot more reckless back in the day or he trusted Steve much more than he originally thought. Bruce was nowhere to be seen - likely sleeping the evening away like any normal guy would do after a long battle.

Tony was there, bent over pieces of the Iron Man armour looking comfortable and lively while he tinkered.  _Beautiful_ , his mind helpfully supplied.

“Hey. Tony.”

"Hey, Cap!" Tony called back, not at all fazed by his presence. J.A.R.V.I.S must have told him he had arrived. He waved his hand as if he was stroking something in mid-air and the volume of his music lowered. "Change your mind on my offer?"

Tony had left an open invitation to all of the Avengers as he and Bruce drove back to the tower together. At the time he hadn't taken it seriously, believing that Stark was showboating again... How little trust he had had; how different could things have been if he had let Tony give him a home?

He gave Tony a kind smile and forced himself to ignore the _'what if's_.

“Sorry, Tony, it’s still a no. I needed- I wanted to tell you that what you did was really brave today. I got you wrong, but you impressed me.” He saw Tony flinch a little under the praise, obviously trying to work out whether he should be flattered or insulted. Steve carried on regardless. It was important that Tony heard this. “And I wanted to make sure you were alright. I only found out a few weeks ago that we’ve been to the moon and you- well, it must’ve been pretty scary being alone out there.”

Tony wiped his hand over the lower half of his face and looked away, worrying his tongue between his teeth (he hadn't expected this little heart to heart) then looked up with a plastered-on smile. "Fine, it's fine. I’m fine. All in a day's work right? I'm still not sure if I'm a fan of shawarma, though - I guess it's one of those fleeting, liminal space things." He pulled a face and shrugged, preoccupying himself with the armour instead.

He seemed easy-going, but Steve knew that his answer was a lie and not a very good one. The appearance of Loki and the battle were the beginnings of Tony’s PTSD, but he let the other man deflect. It would only start a fight if he pressured Tony when he wasn't ready. And - _God_ - he didn't want to fight anymore. Instead, Steve nodded in agreement, the shawarma was… Fine, from what he could recall. The food itself hadn't made a lasting impact. He had followed the team to the restaurant, shell-shocked and trying to calm the patter of his heart whenever he looked at Iron Man.

Tony perked up again when he realised he wasn’t going to push and Steve couldn’t help but stand a little straighter as the energy in the conversation shifted, falling into familiar habits. It was so easy to be around each other like this - without the pain of betrayal and the frustrated shouting-matches - and Tony's relaxed presence was a balm that soothed an ache inside him.

"You know, that was some fine shield work back there. And those legs," Tony whistled appreciatively, roughly dragging Steve abruptly from his thoughts. "Remind me to design you a better suit, Cap. And I'm sure, I'm positive, that there is a way we can get you a better gauntlet for the shield. Trust me, it’ll streamline the whole process. Thor’s given me some ideas... I'll send you designs when I've got a few going.”

"That's kind of you to offer, Tony. Something more stealthy might be good," he suggested, shrugging a shoulder modestly. He bit the inside of his cheek to hide a smile. In recent years Tony’s outrageous flirts had died down somewhat, but he supposed Tony had had other things on his mind. He used to joke with the team like that all the time. If he had to guess, Steve would have blamed the fallout of Ultron to be the cause of Tony's comedic withdrawal. He had too much fear in his heart to joke, back then.

“You weren’t so bad yourself. You worked really well in the team and stepped up when we needed you,” Steve replied sincerely and recalled how skilled Tony had been in battle, despite being self-taught through YouTube and Wikipedia. Steve leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he admired the man stood surrounded in vaguely organised chaos.

Honestly, he could watch Tony work all day. The buzzing excited energy rolled off the man as he brought up holograms and he was intoxicating to watch. Hell, Tony could talk him through how an e-mail worked and Steve would hang onto every word. He was pretty sure that had happened; a vague memory of a StarkPhone in his hand and Tony's warmth at his side. He could tell that this Tony was still off-kilter from the attack by the Chitauri, but Steve hadn't realised that he took away so much inspiration from the disaster. Here he was already designing the team custom made weapons and armour. 

"Yeah, hm," Tony replied and brought Steve out of his thoughts once more. Tony was looking away and he took his protective eyewear off before hitting them against the back of his hand - fidgeting, working himself up to say something that made him feel vulnerable. Years ago Steve would have assumed Tony was being dismissive, too self-involved to hold a full conversation, but in reality, he was presenting a mask of a casualness. He was familiar enough with Tony’s quirks and habits that he could see it now.

Steve raised an eyebrow inquisitively, going for what he hoped was patient and welcoming.

"I wanted to apologize too for, you know, sort of insulting your whole everything on the Helicarrier,” Tony said, waving his hand at Steve. “It’s been just me, for what - almost four years? Has it really been that long? Anyway, anytime you need a team-up to punch a Nazi or two I'll find time in my schedule, Winghead."

He choked back a surprised laugh at the unexpected nickname. Had Tony been keeping that particular moniker to himself all these years?

If Steve had expected Tony to say anything - an apology wasn’t it. He had always thought Tony had too much pride to admit when he was wrong - sure, Tony made mistakes and recognised them enough to fix them, but a verbal confession was a surprise to Steve. Maybe, he thought, he had never given Tony the chance to feel safe enough to admit something he felt was a weakness. If things had been better, maybe Tony would have come to share a little bit more of himself with Steve - with the team.

"That's very generous of you," Steve replied sincerely. He needed the other man to know he was appreciated - needed it down to his soul.

"Yeah, well, I'm a generous man. In and out of the bedroom, for your information. I'm sure you've read the stories in your Google search of me." Tony smirked, amused as he skirted away from the serious conversation again. “Don't take them all at face value.”

Tony faced him fully and leaned against the workbench, lending to show off the length of this torso, hip cocked suggestively.

And it was suggestive, Steve realised now. It was not one of Tony’s best lines, but it was indeed an invitation that he would not have registered before. He would have assumed Tony was mocking him with unnecessarily promiscuous speech: for a long time, he thought that was how Tony liked to disrespect and frustrate him. 

Judging by that dark look in Tony's eyes his words weren't a joke, either.

Steve paused a moment, wanting to hit his past-self over the head for the second time that day. Because, well... _Fuck_. Tony had been flirting with him the whole damn time!

"Ten men and ten women satisfied in the same night springs to mind," Steve replied experimentally, unable to stop the mirth shining in his eyes. He took a step forward, further into the room, and was glad to see the shock on Tony's face before it flitted away to show his own pleased grin.

"An exaggeration from the press, I'm sure," he dismissed with an airy wave of his hand.

"A partner sent to the hospital?"

"That one was true. Less glamorous than it sounds, I might add."

"Well I sure do have a lot to learn about the future," Steve said, with a half-earnest smile. At this point, he would have only been de-iced for a few months and had not had sex in seventy years. Sex had a lot more tech involved now for him to explore - perhaps Tony would offer...

"You've already got my number," Tony pointed out and tossed along with it a wink. Steve's heart pounded in his chest. Tony really wasn't joking.

But, as Steve considered his next move, Tony’s confidence flickered. A mask sheathed his doubt within an arrogant smirk, acting the part of the playboy. That was something Steve recognised, too - the playboy mask. Perhaps because he hadn't realised Tony had been flirting, the other man felt he had to maintain the mask through all their early interactions, until flirtatious jokes turned to bite and snark in his mind. Steve hated that mask; Tony should have never felt the need to use it with him. He cast his mind back to the fading smile his Tony had hidden from him as he said his goodbye before his trip. Tony had laughed so effortlessly with the spider-kid, but as soon as he saw Steve his defences covered that congeniality. Steve wouldn't admit to being jealous, not now when he was too busy deciding to show Tony all the kindness and - _damn it_ \- love that he deserved.

"I do," He agreed (easily, like breathing) and walked the last few feet across the room to stand within Tony's personal space. Stood this close he couldn't help but notice how small the other man seemed out of his suit. Normally Tony’s personality preceded him, filling the room with charisma and arrogance, hiding how vulnerable he could be if he let anyone near enough to look past the armour. Tony licked his lower lip, excited but wary, ready to misdirect depending on Steve’s move. "Maybe I need a fella with experience to help me out in this brave new world. Someone I can trust, someone who has my back... Know a guy like that, Tony?"

Tony raised his brows in surprise, "Why, Captain America, are you propositioning me?”

Steve, emboldened with adrenaline, gripped Tony’s waist and pulled them both flush together. He looked down at Tony and found shock and desire written across his features. "If I'm bein’ honest I didn't just come back to say 'good job'." He admitted, because truthfully in his heart he had hoped that by staying around longer than necessary he could make a connection with Tony. Things were too tense between them back home, so he would reach out here in the safe confines of the past. Whether that was letting Tony know he was appreciated with words or with actions, it didn't matter. He tightened his arm around Tony’s waist and felt the other man shiver. "Say the word and I'll go right now if you want. Pretend this didn't happen."

"Fuck," Tony gasped once his voice decided to work again. He looked away then back at Steve with wide eyes. "I'm gonna fuck Captain America."

Steve ducked his head and laughed. A pleased warmth like sunlight marking a new day settled in his gut when he heard Tony join him.

He took Tony’s jaw between both hands and he pulled him in for a kiss, deep and heated. He couldn't hold back the adoration and the bone breaking ache of passion he held for the man his arms, but Steve was past caring, past hiding. He kissed Tony messily, holding him in place as he poured his admiration from his heart to Tony's. There was a clang as Stark’s projects hit the floor and with a little jump, Tony had himself sitting on the bench behind him and was threading his fingers through Steve's cropped hair. He pulled them close together until Steve was bending over him, snug between his thighs.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," Tony admitted, cheeks flushed and eyes dark. Steve could feel his breaths against the moisture on his top lip.

He laughed in pleasant surprise, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Really?"

"That or punch you, I'm glad it's this if we’re being honest,” Tony replied, lips twisting into a playful grin. His mask was melting away again to reveal the intelligent, sensual, generous man beneath.

"Me too," Steve smirked and lifted Tony up against him so his legs came to rest around his waist. Without the armour, he weighed very little and Steve spun them easily so he could settle his arse back against the bench, holding Tony up around his midsection. Gravity forced Tony's crotch against his and Steve couldn't resist grinding their stiffening pricks together. Tony's hands gripped his shoulders tightly. "You're alright I've got you."

Tony shook his head incredulously, eyes wild and panting. "JARVIS, make a note: super strength, major turn on."

"Yes sir," the A.I. snarked, clearly doing no such thing.

"Well, Stark, you should’ve led with that,” Steve said with a laugh. He shifted his arms from around Tony and gripped his arse instead, holding him up by one hand while the other worked on Tony’s topmost shirt buttons.

“Jesus,” Tony said breathlessly, head tilted up to the ceiling as Steve kissed along his newly bared throat. He had showered after they had said goodbye to Thor and he smelt of expensive cologne; much more like himself. Steve wouldn't be able to smell it again without thinking of Tony's beard against his cheek, their bodies pressed intimately together. “Now that’s just showing off.”

“You would know,” Steve replied cheekily and bit down at the soft skin above his collarbone, making Tony flinch while he thrust closer. He jostled them briefly and gripped Tony’s arse with both hands to help the smaller man grind up against his lower stomach to relieve the ache in his crotch that was becoming harder and harder to ignore. The hold on his shoulders became just shy of painful.

“Naked. You need to be naked- five minutes ago,” Tony said, riding haphazardly against Steve's body.

“You really want to do this here?” he asked with a raised brow, not that he had any real objections.

“A filthy fuck in my workshop with Captain America? Hell yes, we’re staying here. Unless your delicate 40's sensibilities require a cushy bed and the light out I - Oh!” Tony yelped as he was spun and slammed back down onto the workbench, shoulders meeting the surface with a dull thud.

“You really don't know when to shut up do you?” Steve asked, only a little annoyed. He liked it when Stark teased him, challenged him. It made his blood pump fast and redirected straight to his cock. If he had the gumption, he might've finished more than one argument with Tony rutting below him.

He ripped free the rest of Tony's shirt buttons to reveal the light of his original arc reactor embedded in his chest and the toned stomach below. The buttons of Tony's trousers received the same treatment. With a violent jerk of his wrists, he could see sharply trimmed pubic hair and the base of Tony’s trapped erection. Steve bit his lip, eyes roaming hungrily over the bounty and splendour of Tony's form. "You're perfect," he said. It was too much -  _too honest_ \- but Tony wouldn't know it.

"Fuck." Tony scrambled up to help as Steve removed his own soft cotton top, hands skittering over hard musculature. His fingertips brushed over Steve’s nipples and he moaned under the tickling touch. “And you really are the wet-dream, 'peak of physical perfection' they say you are, huh Cap? You know I jacked off thinking about you when I was in college? I had a poster and everything.”

Steve was thrown, voice caught in his throat as another surge of arousal plummeted deep to the base of his cock. He hadn't known that the Tony he worked with for years had actively used him as wank material. _Fuck._

He found himself reaching for Tony, curling a hand roughly around the nape of his neck to pull him into a fierce kiss. He wanted to fuck him, to spill inside him and claim him for his own. He wanted to cherish him, too, to raise him up and show the world what a great man Tony Stark was. It was a powerful, all-consuming desire that he hadn’t known he had in him. His Tony was at home, weak and distant, but this Tony was still his Tony. Just younger, sanguine, _kissing him back-_

He pressed the heel of his palm into the strained line of Tony’s erection through his expensive trousers as he plundered his mouth, groaning at the sheer majesty of it all. “What do you want?” he asked, forehead bumping Tony's, once the overwhelming urgency was somewhat out of his system. His voice was thick and almost unrecognisable.

“Don’t stop, _god_ -” Tony pleaded, groaning as his hands slipped over Steve’s chest. A new wave of possession took over Steve and he found he very much enjoyed the way Tony begged. Would his-...?

He shouldn't think about it. He had stolen this moment from the universe; he shouldn't let his mind wander elsewhere. He forced himself back to the present and savoured the warmth of Tony firmly against his body.

“What did you think about, huh? When you looked at me in paper stars and stripes and just wanted me in your bed sheets?” He goaded and he maintained a firm pressure against Tony’s twitching erection under his palm.

"Fuck, Rogers, everything. You really underestimate my imagination if you think I only thought about one thing,” Tony snarked, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed down a groan. “But if you actually want me to shut up for a bit, I’m fucking great at sucking cock.”

Steve’s mouth went dry at the thought. His instinct was to say no, to offer something more heartfelt and gentle. But, the frustrated part of him that wanted Tony to stick with the team and follow orders appreciated the appeal of stuffing his prick past those smirking lips and demanding his full attention. This was his stolen gift; they could do whatever they wanted.

He nodded, then nodded again as the image grew more fleshed out in his mind. “Yes.”

“Alright, stay there. I want to try something.” Tony said, gesturing for Steve to stay in place facing the bench. Steve waited, feeling giddy and oh-so-lucky; Tony was going to share with him this idea, an experiment to try together, as well as his body which looked so tempting even under the harshness of the workshop's bright lights. He hadn't actually been after a sex-lesson, despite their earlier flirtations, but Steve wasn't going to turn down a little unexpected fun.

Tony repositioned himself so that his head was at Steve’s crotch and he settled flat on his back on the workbench. He reached for Steve’s belt and deftly unthreaded the fastening of his jeans and Steve helped him push the waistband down along with his boxers to his ankles. He didn't bother to kick them away. It was a filthy fuck in the workshop, after all. 

“Shit,” Tony said as Steve’s cock was freed. He was fully hard and the weight of his shaft made his erection bob heavily, parallel to the floor. “Shit,” he repeated and pulled himself free of his trousers with a sense of urgency, squeezing harshly at the base of his own prick for a moment before he let go with a violent smack as the hard length hit his stomach. "This is going to be good," he grinned.

Tony reached up with both hands, staring up to Steve and they groaned in unison at the first touch on Steve’s prick, sending shivers down his spine. Steve's heart-rate spiked like a blow to the chest when he realised what Tony was going to do. Tony was good on his word and for once didn’t find the need to speak- instead, he opened his mouth wide and licked a stripe up the underside of Steve’s cock, tip to root.

Steve moaned his name like a curse, closing his eyes and dropping his head back as his hands skittered over the skin and metal of Tony’s chest. He was rewarded with a lick and then another.

Tony licked him until his knees were weak - until he thought he could almost come from the onslaught of the intense spikes of pleasure rushing through him. But, each lick was fleeting - enough to tease and frustrate him.

“Tony,” he bit out through gritted teeth, hands clenched into fists against Tony’s shoulders. There was only so much torment he could take. “Are you going to suck me or not?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Tony snorted, then finally - god bless - took the tip of Steve’s dick into his mouth, swirling his sinful tongue around the ruddy head.

Tony groaned around his mouthful and swallowed before taking more of his length and Steve watched, mesmerised, as his cock disappeared into Tony’s more than eager mouth. He stayed stock-still, not wanting to overpower the man before he was ready, and stroked his fingers curiously up and down the ridge of Tony’s throat. Tony was sucking him deeper, little by little, and swirled his tongue over the sensitive underside of his cock constantly.

He moaned as he felt Tony swallow beneath his fingers, around his shaft, and he couldn’t help the needy twitch of his hips forcing his cock ever so slightly deeper. Then Tony pulled off, slightly breathless, spit clinging to his lips and Steve’s glistening cock. He worried for a moment that he had hurt Tony, but the other man took his hand and ushered him closer.

“Hold me here,” He instructed and made Steve press the flat of his palm to his throat, tucked up just underneath his chin. The skin there was flushed, damp from sweat and the beginnings of stubble scratched at Steve’s palm. Tony grabbed at his cock again, stroking him firmly as he spoke, making Steve's knees week.

“I’ll hold you,” he said and squeezed his other hand around Steve’s wrist. “If I push away or let go you know to stop, cool? Otherwise, I’m game.”

“Good - yes. Good idea,” Steve said, breathless again and the head of his cock rubbed against Tony’s lower lip. His slick glistened against the red of his delicate skin and he felt himself throb in Tony's grip. He groaned as he was enveloped in the sloppy wet heat and experimentally thrust forwards, deeper down Tony’s throat. He could feel the head of his cock through layers of skin and muscle against his palm.

 _“_ _Ah,”_ he hissed and thrust again, slowly, shaking with the effort of controlling himself. He felt a squeeze at his wrist and looked down to see Tony pressing him deeper so his nose nuzzled against his balls. Tony was full, full of his prick, and arching up for more.

Steve bit his lip and tried another experimental thrust, this time harder, deeper, and Tony moaned encouragingly around him like he’d handed him the heavens and stars above. He did it again and again and then he was thoroughly fucking Tony’s mouth, thrust after thrust. Tony’s spit was getting everywhere, face red, and his neglected cock hanging out of his trousers in a dishevelled mess, but he looked gorgeous to Steve. He imagined it must be unpleasant, to some degree, having a cock shoved down one’s throat over and over until it was raw, but Tony seemed to get off on it - couldn't get enough of it, and Steve was happy to oblige him. Tony’s nails dug into the skin of his wrist, firmly keeping him in place as he fucked his way to climax.

“Tony, I-” He warned, opening his eyes that he hadn’t realised had fallen shut. He heard a wet sound and glanced up to see Tony fisting his prick, his free hand flying over his length and - _fuck_ \- that was what pushed Steve over the edge, his pleasure slamming into him as he spilt down Tony’s throat. He arched back, both hands coming up to tug at his own hair as he cried out to the ceiling in disbelief, the shockwaves of his pleasure pulsing through him into Tony’s willing mouth. He felt his cock jerk over and over and Tony sucked him down greedily, mewling his appreciation.

Eventually, Tony pulled off with a gasp and used his hands to coax the last drops of Steve’s pleasure onto his waiting tongue. Steve watched through heavy eyelids, trembling with sensitivity as Tony’s tongue swiped around his glans and frenulum as though chasing his flavour.

“You weren’t kiddin’,” he said breathlessly, running a tender hand over Tony’s cheek as the other man finished licking him clean. He felt like he was floating - dreaming - because surely this couldn't be real? A pleased flush ran high up Tony's cheekbones from the praise and he swiped his thumb fondly over that blush again. “You alright?”

Tony swallowed a few times and nodded. He wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist and propped himself up on his elbow, eyes shining happily.

“That was fucking hot, Cap. Get me the, uh, the water over by the coffee machine?” He said, voice rough and wrecked as he gestured. The sound made Steve’s cock twitch again, knowing that he was the one that made it that way. He removed his jeans from around his ankles along with his shoes and stumbled dutifully over to the mini fridge Tony kept. He was pretty sure Tony could get him to do almost anything right then; he'd do it without hesitation.

Tony just moved to sit up while Steve offered the over-priced bottled water to him. Steve pressed his lips against a sweaty forehead and belatedly realised that he should put the bottle on the table for Tony to take, but Tony was already drinking despite the bottle being handed directly to him. Steve hid his smile in the damp dark curls atop Tony’s head. There was barely any silver there at all, he noted wistfully.

Tony took a few long gulps until the water was half empty, then threw the bottle aside. When Steve kissed him again his lips were cool and refreshed in contrast to the warmth of their bodies.

He stood between Tony's thighs and gripped his neglected prick, slowly dragging his fist the whole length from base to tip, drawing out a breathy moan. Tony kicked his legs free from his trousers and reached for Steve, one hand at his waist and another a little lower.

“Are you done?” He asked, fisting the length of Steve’s cock which remained turgid and eager against his calloused palm. He didn't seem all that surprised that Steve was still thick and heavy in his hand, twitching with sensitivity. “I’ve got lube. I really wouldn’t say no to your prick inside me if you’re still good for it. I won’t last long. I’ve been close since you started face-fucking me properly.”

 _Jesus_ , Steve thought. Perhaps refusing to live with Tony all those years ago had been for the best; he wasn't sure he would have survived a week if accepting the offer might have lead to a steady trust and vivacious sex-life.

“You don’t do stuff in halves, do ya?” Steve asked but notably didn’t refuse. In fact, his cock twitched against Tony’s palm as he began to picture the joy of being inside him.

He was only a little shocked that Tony actually kept lube on him: a small travel-friendly bottle tucked away in the lapel of his jacket strewn across the floor. Tony might tease and flirt, but it was probably some combination of medical-grade and armour-safe lubricant. Multi-purpose and elegant, as always.

He felt Tony shudder as he kissed him again and allowed the other man to fuck his newly slickened fist for a few moments before taking his hand away completely.

“Fuck you, Rogers,” Tony cursed between kisses, teeth kneading at Steve’s lower lip.

“Hm, maybe later,” he teased - because wouldn't that be wonderful? - and nudged at Tony’s legs so his feet were resting on the edge of the bench, knees to the ceiling, thighs spread. He leaned over Tony’s prone form and began to circle the heat of his hole with the broad pad of his slick thumb, applying pressure when Tony spread his legs further for him. He had imagined this (only a handful of times in the quiet of night when he permitted himself the luxury), but his fantasies fell into a shadow compared with the wondrous reality of touching Tony so intimately. He was warm, soft, and yielded to his caress so nicely. Steve could see the moment Tony's body relaxed from tense-anticipation to the need to be filled, balls clenched close to his body rhythmically.

“I vaguely - _oh fuck_ \- recall someone implying something about needing a teacher. Seems like you’re doing just fine on your own,” Tony murmured. He was briefly silent, biting his lip as Steve pressed a finger inside him before his chatter started up, fire effectively stoked. “Oh yeah, you just had to be fucking good at this as well, didn’t you? Fuck I’m never going to stop thinking about your fingers up my ass. You’re going to be off punching Nazi’s and I’ll watch the updates wondering if you’d have the nerve to fist me. Another, come on, Rogers.”

“Christ, Tony-” Steve gasped, his cock throbbing as he obediently pressed a second digit inside his lover. He had no idea that Tony thought about him like that, had no idea how deeply mutual their attraction was. Tony's awaiting hole pulsed around the new stretch of his knuckles before relaxing to accept the slow push and drag of his fingers. He could do this forever, or at least until Tony was a wet mess of leaking precome and begging for release. He found his prostate easily and tapped a teasing pattern over the nerves, sparking small fires throughout his body until he was shuddering.

“Don’t worry about being gentle, Cap, I’ll tell you if something’s up. Just - _yeah,_ like that. All those years in the ice must have got you worked up, huh? I know that must have been frustrating. God, I’m shocked you didn’t bust as soon as I touched your pristine engineered prick,” Tony rambled, coaxing, his stream of consciousness only interrupted by a grunt as Steve began to finger-fuck him in earnest; forcefully shoving his fingers into his hole and the muscles had to relax against the onslaught.

“You like that,” he said, panting as he moved his attention to kiss and bite at Tony’s ribs and stomach. He tasted of sweat and musk from strings of Tony’s pre-come that had dripped to his abdomen. His hand moved faster, harder, and Tony keened and arched under him. He was so beautiful, so receptive and eager. Steve wasn't using his full strength, but he wagered Tony found the power behind his touch more than a little bit sexy, judging by the way he scrambled against the bench. 

“That’s it, fuck, you’re perfect,” Tony groaned. He cried out, tugging tightly at Steve’s hair as a third finger entered him. “Goddamn, I hate how fucking perfect you are, how good your dick is going to feel inside me.”

Steve grunted appreciatively and - dirty talk, aside - decided to ignore the twisted confession. Tony had a long history with Captain America and Steve wouldn't blame him for having mixed feelings about fucking the man he had once both idolized and despised in his younger days. But he wasn't Captain America right now, he was just Steve; the man who made mistakes, loved with his heart on his sleeve, and had gone to the end of the world and back with Tony by his side.

“Are you ready?” Steve asked, not sure how much longer he could wait listening to Tony’s dirty mouth while his cock bobbed heavily between his legs. He pulled his fingers out from Tony, only using the tips to massage at his fluttering reddened hole.

“Yes, yes. But, go slow to start. I don’t want to come yet, I don't want to forget this.”

Steve chuckled because it was just like Tony to want to extend his pleasure for as long as possible, even if it meant denying himself release. He wrapped Tony’s legs around his waist and guided himself slowly past the initial resistance into his body. Heat surrounded him and he groaned, panting as he laced his hands together with Tony's. He held Tony close, wanting to watch as pleasure relaxed Tony’s features while he adjusted to the girth of his prick slowly easing into him. He had prepared him well and he slowly undulated his cock deeper into the wet warmth that welcomed him.

Tony’s brow was furrowed a little, his mouth slack as he luxuriated in the stretch of penetration and the position allowed Steve to slip deeper, deeper so the sharp juts of his hip bones were digging into Tony’s thighs. He rolled his hips into Tony's, his cock so large he couldn't avoid his prostate with his needy little thrusts.

“God, you feel so good. You have to move. Slowly, _ah!_ Almost all the way out and then as deep as you can,” Tony babbled, rattling off instructions like he was ordering lunch. They were orders that Steve could get behind. Again, Steve was struck with the feeling that he would agree to anything Tony wanted like this. He might be the stronger man, he might be the one giving, but Tony had Steve wrapped around his finger.

It was indulgent fucking which took all of Steve’s control to not frot wildly into the other man and instead cherish the regretful stroke of his hips as he pulled away from the heat of Tony’s body. It made it all the more worthwhile as he pushed back inside, feeling Tony throb around him as he settled home. When he bottomed out he choked down a whine, strangling it into a grunt as he ground his hips into Tony, wanting to be deeper, as close to him as possible.

He kept up the torturous pace - body trembling with effort - and maintained a keen eye on his lover, anticipating his next direction when the madman had had enough of this game.

“More,” Tony gasped finally, hands scratching at Steve’s chest and shoulders and legs trembling around his waist. “Fuck, faster. Fuck me like you mean it, Rogers.”

Steve tightened his grip on Tony’s hands and used the leverage to thrust deeply, grunting with satisfaction as Tony cried out from the powerful slam of his cock. He bounced Tony along the length of his erection, keeping a fierce hold as he ploughed into him. Tony’s body strained against his grip and his heels dug into the small of his back to meet him thrust for thrust. Steve moved to grip Tony's slim waist, pressing bruises there as he watched their point of connection - watched himself slam into his friend over and over.

Tony caught his gaze and stretched out to grip the far edge of the bench above his head in self-imposed bondage. The artful position showed off the muscles in his arms, the glare of the arc reactor, the hollow of his stomach, his leaking prick and his balls swollen tucked close to his shaft. He squeezed Tony’s balls, hot and throbbing under his palm as he fucked him with the full length of his cock. He used his other hand to hold Tony’s hips down, keeping him still so he could thrust into him roughly as they both wanted.

“You look so hot like this,” Tony said. He was panting and struggled to maintain eye contact as every thrust forced him further up the table and Steve felt as though he had been struck by a bolt of electricity; it seemed as though Tony was looking depths of his soul. He wanted to hide but couldn't look away. “Like I’m the fucking mission; like you need to make me come even if it kills you.”

“Are you gonna? You gonna come on my cock, Tony?” Steve demanded, both hands holding onto Tony’s thighs now as he fucked harder, deeper, finding that spot inside which made Tony’s head fall back and his legs lose purchase around his hips. It didn’t matter, Steve kept him spread and exposed, his fingers digging into soft flesh and strained muscles with a bruising grip against sweat and lube soaked skin. He was angry; angry at himself that he hadn't seen what they could have been so much sooner. Angry that he could only ever have this - just once - hidden and shameful in the past. He fucked Tony with anger turned to desperate passion, to timeless love, because Tony never deserved any of his anger. Tony only ever deserved his love and Steve would prove it to him with every punishing slam of his cock to his prostate.

 _“Please_ , fuck, yes, tell me to- tell me-” Tony begged. One hand released the edge of the bench, clenching in what seemed to be indecision. He made aborted jerky movements towards his cock, before pulling away to press into the hard surface of the arc reactor, trembling as if he wanted to reach for his cock again.

“Think you can do that? Come on my prick, Tony, that’s an order. Do it, come for me.” He commanded, breathless and greedy as Tony’s body grew tense, clamping down hard around his cock and Tony cried out in shock from the power behind his sudden orgasm. He was strung tight, still, as if time froze around them before his body gave way to large shuddering gasps that rocked the bench beneath them.

“Steve!” He yelled to the ceiling as the first wave of come splattered across his stomach. Steve watched, fixated as Tony’s straining untouched prick bounced with every deep thrust, every clench of Tony’s arse around him, shooting come in wet streaks over tan flesh. He maintained his brutal pace, fucking Tony to overstimulation. He fucked him until he couldn’t bear it any longer and pulled out quickly with a curse.

He scrambled up so one knee was on the bench between Tony’s legs and he wanked himself furiously, face red with effort as he bit his lip, orgasm building. Tony was watching him, eager and open, no defences, no walls, all for _him_ and Steve cried out, his pleasure spilling over to coat Tony’s cock and balls in thick clear ropes of spunk. The image burned into the possessive part of his brain. He would always have this; Tony's spent cock covered in his come.

“God,” He groaned, voice guttural in his chest. Tony’s hand joined his and Steve let him take over to stroke him through the aftershocks to softness, comfortable from the warm regard.

It felt like forgiveness.

“Say JARVIS, keep the recordings of the workshop footage today. I wager we could make a million selling Captain America and Iron Man’s first sex tape.” Tony said, smug and breathless from his orgasm.

He was so casual, so ignorant of Steve's inner turmoil, that Steve couldn't help but relax and fall into his open arms. He waited for a beat and laughed when the A.I. didn’t deign to answer.

“First?” He quoted, rolling his eyes and he kissed the other man before he could answer. They caught their breaths together, savouring the taste of each other’s lips and Tony hummed happily against his mouth.

“Never say never,” Tony replied and broke away with a chuckle, pushing Steve back with a pat to his chest. He stood, wobbling as his weak knees shook under his weight. “Hoo, that’s nice. My meeting tomorrow morning is going to be interesting, I can tell you that.” He pointed to the far side of the workshop. “There’s a shower through that door. It’s got sixteen settings.”

He didn’t need to ask for his help; Steve got the hint. He would never need to ask again if Steve had anything to say about it.

He supported Tony’s weight as they showered together and Steve took his time washing the dried sweat and cooling mix of lube and come from Tony’s skin. Steve touched him with love, uncaring that he was showing his hand, and Tony preened under the kind treatment. Tony teased him, kissed him, and offered to wash Steve off too. Steve enjoyed the easy warmth and the feeling of camaraderie they shared as hands passed over grazes and bruises from the New York fight and their enthusiastic sex. 

Once they were dry and warm back in the workshop - Tony redressed in spare clean clothes, Steve back in the garments that had been discarded to the floor - he reached out for Tony. He made to take his hand, then took his shoulder and squeezed the muscle there kindly. He needed to say something, to explain, but where to start?

“Your bike is in the garage,” Tony said smoothly as if reading his mind. He glanced around the mess of his workstation with a well-meaning sigh then pointed at Steve with an accusatory finger. “You really shouldn’t leave it parked out front, you know. Let me know if Dum-E scratched it, I’ll scrap him for parts.”

“I have some things I need to take care of in Brooklyn,” Steve said, gratitude softening his voice. If he guessed correctly, his past-self was enjoying a humongous slice of pizza by now and scrolling the internet to learn of the new world. Or, perhaps wondering where his bike had disappeared to.

“Old haunts and all that, I get it. It’s fine, we’re good Rogers. You and your sweet ass don’t need to justify anything to me,” Tony said, patting Steve’s hand where it rested on his shoulder before shrugging him off, not unkindly. He smiled up at Steve, clearly amused at the day's turn of events.

Steve returned the smile readily and took a moment to read Tony’s expression; relaxed and easy, without disappointment or expectation. Steve could see the line of Tony's thoughts in his eyes. Tony was a realist, a futurist, an ex-playboy: Super-hero colleagues with benefits wasn’t a bad deal, even if it was a one-time thing.

He was grateful that Tony was handling the situation so well because his past-self definitely wasn’t going to proposition Tony anytime soon. Not at all, in fact, if Steve remembered correctly. He felt guilt-ridden, too, because he had taken this moment while aware his past self was never going to offer this same love to Tony again. He had stolen this out of time moment from the universe completely selfishly. He felt ashamed most of all, knowing he was still undeserving of this Tony's kind regard. What he had done - what they had done to each other - they were still going to do. The fight and hostility weren't going away and he hadn't earned Tony's forgiveness - this kind of intimacy - yet.

This Tony soothed his heartache, showed him what could have been, and helped him make peace with all of his mistakes. And Steve still needed to atone and made amends with the Tony of the future, if it was at all possible.

In the end, no matter how tempted he was to stay, he had to finish returning the Stones. Steve kept that thought in mind as Tony walked with him to the door and squinted into the early morning sunlight.

Tony slid his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose once they stood in the doorway and looked away in thought, but Steve stopped him before he could voice whatever he was about to say.

“We’re going to be alright, Tony,” he said sincerely, a promise from his Captain and his friend. It wasn’t much - it didn’t mean anything to Tony, not really - but Steve hoped he would remember his words. He hoped they would provide some small comfort during the next thirteen years of fights and hardship (both at home and otherworldly). It couldn't all be for nothing. He hoped now more than ever that it was the truth, that _they_ \- Tony and Steve - would be alright. He would return the Stones, go home, and reach out an offering of kindness to the Tony he loved.

"Of course we are, Cap,” Tony snorted - ignorant to the weight behind Steve's message - and patted Steve’s bicep with a smirk. Unable to help himself, Steve chuckled and tilted his head curiously, waiting for him to explain. Tony met his gaze over the top of his sunglasses with a wink.

“We're the fucking Avengers."

 

 


End file.
